


you make me feel like gold

by unorgaynized



Series: soulmate AU [1]
Category: The Prom - Sklar/Beguelin/Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alyssa Greene & Shelby - Freeform, F/F, Gen, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, background Emma Nolan & Kaylee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:15:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22044688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unorgaynized/pseuds/unorgaynized
Summary: Soulmates exist, and Alyssa Greene is skeptical about them.
Relationships: Alyssa Greene/Emma Nolan
Series: soulmate AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1586776
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52





	you make me feel like gold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [munchiezxx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/munchiezxx/gifts).



> for the Prom discord secret santa! i hope you like this, aya!!

Alyssa Janelle Greene was born with a soulmate, a bright golden string twining around her tiny wrist. She was lucky, she’d always been told, most soulmate strings didn’t show themselves so early or were such a lucky color. Gold was the rarest of colors; it meant prosperity in her future, comfort, joy, and signified the happiest future she could get, and it was the envy of other parents that the Greenes knew they had such a fortuitous daughter at such a young age. 

Alyssa’s uniqueness began to fade once she entered elementary school, as most of the kids she knew would gain their soulmate strings as they got older. But she was still the only gold-stringèd girl in Edgewater, and probably half of the surrounding states. That gave her parents something to be proud of, something to show off when she met someone new. The loop of bright warm sun around her wrist, insubstantial and weightless was something that gave her strength. Her mom papered little gold stickers on her wrist under the string, and her dad kissed each one, and that was how Alyssa would arrive to school every day, stars and love shining under her string for two promises of her future.

Shelby’s string was grey, which was nowhere near so promising a future. Everyone knew that, everyone could tell that, especially when the adults got strained smiles when Shelby showed it off. But no one wanted to say anything to Shelby about it, since it wasn’t her fault she was born to a bad soulmate. Everyone _had_ one, after all, there was just no rule that said you had to like yours. So Shelby was always reminded that it was _perfectly fine_ if you didn’t marry your soulmate, not everyone did, it was okay to look elsewhere.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Alyssa said one day in class, raising her gold-stringèd hand. “That’s not fair to Shelby that you can say she has a bad soulmate and I have a good soulmate.”

Shelby wasn’t happy with that, though. “I don’t need you to stick up for me, Alyssa!” She followed Alyssa into the playground swingset, standing behind her. “Just because you’re special doesn’t mean you’re the best!”

“No, but it’s _not_ fair to you.” Alyssa kicked at the ground and missed. “Can you push me, though? If you’re angry, you can use it productively.” That’s what her mother had always said, after all. _Use your anger productively_. It was a big word, four syllables, and Alyssa liked the way it fit inside her mouth, pursing it tight and spreading it wide. 

Shelby gave her an angry push, and Alyssa flew through the air, legs outstretched. She could fly then, pretend she was a star as she tucked her legs underneath her and leaned forward, kicked at the sky and leaned to look at the sun until her string of gold blended against it. “Thanks.”

“We’re not friends.” Shelby gave another angry push. “Just because you have the best and I have the worst, _it doesn’t mean we’re friends._ ” 

“We both stick out,” Alyssa argued. “We get the most looks from the grown-ups.” She didn’t feel the hands on her back again and she turned to look, but she didn’t see Shelby behind her. Nervous, she twisted around, her heart pounding. Had she driven off Shelby already? She didn’t _want_ to. She wanted to be friends with Shelby, because Shelby was smart and had pretty hair and was confident and wasn’t scared to stand up to teachers. 

A whoop cut through the air as Shelby stood up on the swing next to her, and Alyssa’s breath hitched at the look on her face. It was proud, happy, _free_. Shelby was grey-stringèd, unluckiness and badness tied to her wrist and Shelby had just mentioned it and it still wasn’t weighing her down as she swung higher, better than Alyssa ever could.

“Teach me how to do that!” She wanted to stand, but she was suddenly too scared to do so. There was probably a special way to do it, one that Shelby had done all on her own. Alyssa was couldn’t try on her own, because she’d fall.

Shelby smiled then, face half-blocked by the sun. “I’ll teach you for six acorns.”

“Deal,” Alyssa said eagerly, and knew she had Shelby as a friend.

* * *

By the time they started third grade, everyone in their grade had a soulmate but Emma Nolan and Kaylee Klein. There were a few late bloomers before, but that meant your soulmate wasn’t born yet at best, or that you didn’t have one, and people without soulmates were as rare as pink-stringèd soulmates. 

Soulmates were supposed to be _special_. Soulmates were never supposed to leave you, especially when you’d met them and married them and had a kid with them, even if things got really bad. Soulmates were supposed to keep with you, if you had a good or okay color on your matching wrists, everyone knew that. 

But Everyone, apparently, didn’t mean Alyssa’s parents. Their stringèd wrists were green as their name, and Alyssa’s dad lost his job and her parents were just arguing more and more and more until Alyssa’s dad moved out. Green was supposed to be a color the meant loyalty through hard times, and that wasn’t right. Her dad apologized a hundred thousand times but he said he couldn’t stay and that he couldn’t take her and Alyssa screamed and cried and only told Shelby.

On the worst day of Alyssa Janelle Greene’s life, Amanda Kaylee Klein triumphantly held up a wrist, and upon it glowed a slim line of pastel pink. Kaylee was officially a late bloomer, but she had the second-best color in town after Alyssa. After gold and silver, there was pastel pink, red, and buttery sunshiney yellow-- and those were the _best_ colors to have. 

Kaylee was special too now, but it was a normal type of special. If it wasn’t for Alyssa, she would have had the best soulmate even though her soulmate was only a baby. Alyssa didn’t want to hate Kaylee for those two things: for getting her soulmate on That Day, or for being the other lucky color, but they were two things and they were too much. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Kaylee because she did, and she’d felt bad for Kaylee and Kaylee’s friend Emma, but it was a lot. But Alyssa’s mother always said Anger Wasn’t Productive, and that’s why she was looking for a job, that’s why she was working all sorts of hours and--

Alyssa swallowed her anger, and pushed it down to her starred (unkissed) gold-stringèd wrist. “Congrats, Kaylee. I’m really happy for you.”

Kaylee just hugged her tightly. “I’m sorry, ‘Lys.”

Alyssa’s eyes met Emma’s, and the other girl looked away quickly, her hand covering her bare wrist. Alyssa frowned. It was probably pretty lonely for her, the only person over six in their school to not have a soulmate string. She didn’t know her too well, but Alyssa was friends with Shelby, and Shelby was friends with Kaylee, and Kaylee was friends with Emma, so they’d been out together, and they’d been to sleepovers together. But Kaylee was Shelby’s friend more than someone Alyssa actually knew, and Emma was Kaylee’s friend. Alyssa was sure that if not for her gold-stringèd wrist, she’d be known as Shelby’s friend. 

But now they were all sort of matched, gold-stringèd Alyssa with grey-stringèd Shelby, and pink-stringèd Kaylee with un-stringèd Emma. Most people would probably think that Alyssa would stick with Kaylee, because their colors were the best, and unlucky Shelby with soulmateness Emma, but Shelby’s best friends had the best colors, and Shelby had the worst color and Emma had _nothing_.

Alyssa wanted to know her more. Not because she felt sorry for her, but because she wanted to know her better. At least Emma had the hope, day by day. If it lasted. Alyssa knew her soulmate was out there, with all the good luck she was supposed to have with it, and her color promised it would be an amazing match. Emma could still get a color like Shelby’s. 

But colors lied, too. They’d lied for Alyssa’s parents, after all. If they could lie for Alyssa’s parents, they could lie for anyone’s, couldn’t they? If they didn’t work out, even if they were soulmates, what made soulmates any better? Alyssa shook her head. She was getting stupid. Shelby’s grey-stringèd wrist marked her as unhappy if she settled down, though probably meant more and worse. The strings provided _warnings_ too, like orange’s danger, or pale green’s stubbornness. Her parents’ green warned of hard times, after all. That was it, and that was all.

* * *

They got older. They all got older, and the strings started to mean both more and less. As they turned into teenagers, as they entered high school, people started looking for their soulmates, started dreaming about them, or getting all the fun out of their system. Nick Boomer, with his cool blue-stringèd (patience, understanding) wrist started walking Shelby to classes every day, and Kaylee began searching everyone’s wrist and all the yearbook pictures for someone else with pastel pink.

“They’re eight years younger, Kaylee,” Emma said, exhaustion in her tone. At sixteen, she was still un-stringèd, still soulmateless. “Your soulmate, whoever they are, is probably _eight_ now.”

Kaylee shrugged at that. “I can still look for him. Do you think it really matters when it came, as long as we match? If it was when your soulmate was first born, then half of everyone would be born with theirs like Little Miss Perfect here.”

“Hey,” Alyssa offered a token defense. “Your logic about finding someone who could pass is sound, though yesterday you told Shelby that you had a nightmare you’d became a babysitter and found your soulmate.”

Kaylee gasped, whirling on her betrayer in fake outrage. “Shelby! That was supposed to be _private!”_ The rest of the girls at the sleepover (mostly from the cheerleading squad, the debate club, and Shelby’s newly-formed Spanish club, respectively) laughed.

“I told you,” Shelby proclaimed loudly, “you were on _speaker_ but you were drunk and--”

“I did no such thing!”

“You did, Kaylee, I was _with_ you,” Emma returned. 

“Oh.” Kaylee frowned, twisting a pencil around in her hand. “It’s really not _fair,_ though! Alyssa, you work at Bible camp, and Shelby, you’re a babysitter, and it’s such a good way to make money, but I can’t do that, because on the off-chance if I find my soulmate, it’ll be _creepy_!”

“I know,” Emma said wearily. 

“And like, is that something I could go to _jail_ for if I had no idea, and I just saw him, and he somehow knows me, and he’s like, tiny?” (“You’ve seen too many movies,” Emma said. “That doesn’t happen when you meet your soulmate.”) “If he knows because he feels it and I don’t know, what am I supposed to do if he starts acting on it and it creeps me out for the rest of my life so I can’t ever love him? Or like, on that whole Twilight thing, that was really creepy, and like, no one would ever like that--” (“You don’t get a magical sense of knowing, ask your parents. And you liked Twilight when we were twelve, Kaylee.”) “You just don’t understand what it’s like to have a prepubescent soulmate!”

Alyssa carefully exchanged a glance with Shelby. One way or another, they’d either had a prepubescent soulmate or been the prepubescent soulmate. It didn’t really bother them, since Shelby had no intention of meeting her soulmate, and Alyssa. . . . 

“What’s the big deal about it, Kaylee? What’s the big deal about, I don’t know, soulmates?” Alyssa held up her wrist, ignoring the sharply inhaled breaths of the girls around her who weren’t Kaylee. “You’ve probably noticed I’m not looking for mine.”

Kaylee flinched back. “But you’re gold-stringed! You, out of all of us should. Besides, you know he’s older than you.”

Alyssa shrugged. “What if that means he’s _old_ though? He could be ancient for all I know. For all I _care_ , really. They’re not all they’re cracked up to be. Why should Shelby’s soulmate be destined for--”

“Don’t bring _me_ into this again, Greene, I’m not your Show-and-Tell unless you vote for my cheer suggestion--”

“-- whatever people claim, and my parents divorced, remember? And then Kevin’s mom found her soulmate and divorced Kevin’s dad--”

“They have names, and Mr. Shields is our number one contributor to the Debate Club--”

“--so it doesn’t really matter, _right._ ” Alyssa met everyone’s eyes. Kaylee, Shelby, Linda, Emma (she had very nice eyes, actually, why hadn’t Alyssa noticed that before? Oh, time to move on, she was staring too long) Carrie, Jess, Natalie, Hayden, Winnie. They all had different reasons to believe in soulmates, and different colors on each wrist. Kaylee with her lucky pink and Shelby with her ill-omened grey, Linda with her prosperous yellow, Winnie with loving red, Natalie with an unsettling shade of puke-ish brown and Hayden with solid-fortuned brown, Carrie with _goddamn green._

“I need to take a break.” Alyssa smiled as she stood, because she was Little Miss Perfect: the gold-stringèd girl, straight-As and straightened hair, student council rep for the junior class, cheerleader and debate club member, and she didn’t get angry, because that _wasn’t productive._ “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll go with you,” Emma said, hastily standing. “I-- my dad’s calling.”

Alyssa pushed her way through, trying to seem calm. She had to breath, had to get out, and--

“You’re right, it’s bullshit,” Emma said once they closed the door to the basement steps behind them. 

“What?” Of all the things she’d thought Emma Nolan would say to her, she hadn’t thought that would be one of them. 

“It’s bullshit,” Emma repeated. “They don’t want to hear it from you, because you’re supposed to get the happy ending. They want to hear it from me, because I’m supposed to be bitter and angry.”

“We don’t think of you that way.” It slipped out, and Alyssa cursed herself for saying-- for saying something so, so _exclusionary_. Emma was only trying to help. 

Emma’s face had a cynical little smile on it. “Thanks, Alyssa. I know you don’t, but half the time Kaylee thinks I’m still eight, and want a soulmate.”

A smile flitted across Alyssa’s face. “Kaylee also thinks I’m still upset at her for being pink-stringèd on the day my parents divorced.”

“She really did blame herself for that,” Emma propped her elbow on a shelf; it slid off and Emma hissed, shaking it frantically.

“Are you okay?” Alyssa couldn’t help the sudden fear in her voice. If this was her own house, or Shelby’s house, she’d know where the first aid was, but this was Kaylee’s, and--

“Hit my funny bone,” Emma confessed, face drawn. “It’ll stop soon.” 

“Would Kaylee be okay with you telling me that?” Alyssa asked. Not that she really thought Kaylee minded, she just couldn’t think of anything else to say. She couldn’t look at Emma again for some reason. It was almost too embarrassing, that she’d gotten so concerned about a funny bone knocking. 

Emma gave her a look that could be termed as _fond exasperation_. It was almost too familiar, and Alyssa now really couldn’t look away. It was definitely too familiar, Emma’s too-frank hazel eyes looking through everything Alyssa had. “She’s been saying that in front of you for the past eight years, Alyssa.”

“Right, of course.” Alyssa gave another forced smile, ignoring the jump in her stomach as she did so. 

“But I’m not. . . angry,” Emma said. “I don’t wish I had a soulmate. I just wanted one then because Kaylee wanted one. And we were friends.”

She didn’t know Emma very well. They’d been in the same core friendgroup for eight years, though Kaylee and Shelby had gotten steadily closer throughout them. Shelby was still as close to Alyssa as she’d always been, and Alyssa could say that she was pretty much best friends with Kaylee now, but she and Emma. . . 

Emma Nolan was Kaylee’s Friend, and that shouldn’t be the significant thing about her, the way Alyssa thought about her. Especially not the way Emma was looking at her, with honest hazel eyes and waving honey hair that stuck around her head like a thousand cowlicks. Emma was the outsider, the only girl in their junior high school and their high school to be un-stringèd, just as Alyssa was the only gold-stringèd girl. By all teen novels, television shows, and movies, they shouldn’t really be friends. Not because gold-stringèd girls might be cruel, but because they just really had no use for each other. Besides, usually it was the un-stringèd one who was the antagonist in those. 

But Alyssa had grown up with Emma, really, kindergarten through eleventh grade. Emma was always there in the back of most of her memories, and Emma was, more often than not, the person who backed her up in counselling cautions whenever Kaylee and Shelby wanted to stunt. Emma was nice, always the person to jump up and run for tissues when someone was crying or had a nosebleed. Emma was smart; her essays always were among the better ones of the class, and she’d had a skill with words that Alyssa could see when she’d peer reviewed a few papers in class. Emma was--

Emma hadn’t blinked at her during the worst day of Alyssa’s life. Emma was agreeing without her, without dismissing what she was saying because of the color of Alyssa’s soulmate string. “We want a lot of things because our friends do, don’t we.” 

“Yeah,” Emma fiddled with a loose string on her flannel shirt. Her fingers seemed absurdly long and pale against the red patterns, and Alyssa tried to not find herself so . . hypnotized by them. “If you ever want to talk more about soulmate strings, do you ever want to go ice skating sometime? It’s a good way to think?”

 _Ice skating_. Alyssa’s lips curled into a smile. She hadn’t done that in years. “I’d love to,” she said before she could think. . .better of it? Why would she need to think better of it? “I’m free tomorrow night?”

“Great.” Emma grinned in response. “You’d better go back down.” She jerked a thumb downstairs, then bent her wrists, shooting finger guns. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, then? After tonight, I mean.”

“Can’t be seen going back down together, right?” Alyssa joked. She’d meant that Emma was pretending to be talking to her dad, but it came out differently. It was a stupid thing to say, she knew now, but why did she say it? Why wasn’t her mind working right? “I mean, with your claimed call.”

Something tore across Emma’s face then, pained and tight. “Yeah. How terrible that would be.”

“I’m sorry, it was a bad joke.” She really should have known better. Obviously, that would be something to take personally, but suddenly, Alyssa couldn’t lose Emma’s regard. Emma was friendly to everyone, and Alyssa would be the most terrible person if Emma didn’t like her. Especially as Alyssa was close friends to Emma’s realest friend. Emma was, after all, closest to Kaylee, but even that connection was tenuous, even considering Kaylee’s flightiness. It was Emma herself, really. It wasn’t even Emma being un-stringèd that set her so apart from everyone, though Alyssa had no doubt that was a part of it. That was simply. . . Emma, half a step out of line, leaning over boxes and expectations, a feeling of _off._

“It’s fine.” Emma’s mouth twitched, a false smile spreading across, the motion familiar and well-practiced. “You didn’t mean to.”

“No! I didn’t mean what we. . .think I meant.” She’d said it baldly now, her eyes flitting around Emma’s face, trying not to see their reaction. That was as bald a statement as some of Emma’s earlier ones, as Alyssa’s own one that she didn’t really believe in soulmates.

But she couldn’t help it, and Emma looked pleased, the false smile deepening to true, her smile curling to emphasize what might be a hint of a dimple. “We’ll talk more about it then?” 

Or maybe, for Alyssa, a feeling of similarity. There really was no reason why she didn’t know Emma better. She’d half-avoided Emma, even though any of those eight years, they could have had this conversation. Any the of eight years they could have talked. It didn’t have to be an idle conversation in a stairway of Kaylee’s house during a sleepover when there were a lot of other people around who could come up the stairs any minute. Emma was different, that was it, in a way that vibrated off a sense of discomfort in the air, one that _Alyssa shared._

A smile ghosted on Alyssa’s lips as she walked back downstairs

* * *

The next day couldn’t come quickly enough, especially once Alyssa came back down to the sleepover. She would have faked a call from her mom to bring her back home, but Shelby knew her mom too well to let that slide, and Kaylee was pretty good at convincing her to let Alyssa do things she usually wouldn’t otherwise. It was especially painful after Emma came back down, and slid a private smile towards Alyssa. The hitch in her heartbeat and jump in her stomach matched the slight crookedness in Emma’s teeth that Emma’s braces had never been able to correct.

Alyssa finally managed to twist away at last, claiming that she’d had extra credit to do, though it had been hours after Emma, who had been allowed to slip away without much protest on Kaylee’s end. Still, the two of them had held onto a decaying friendship for years, bound tight by childhood memories and honest care. Alyssa hoped it wouldn’t happen to Shelby and her, though didn’t most friendships do that? 

By the time she’d arrived at the lake that she was only half certain that she was headed to the right one. Emma had to have meant the main one, right? She’d been about to text Emma to make sure about it, when she’d spotted Emma’s pick-up truck and she’d hopped out of the car with assurances to her mother she’d call the moment she thought she might take a fall. Alyssa’s mother knew that wouldn’t happen, but the lie they both pretended to believe served them both. 

It was mostly empty, thankfully. Not many people went ice skating on Sundays before the afternoon, and it was cold enough to keep the younger kids at home. Emma’s breath came out in a cloud of white that blended against her blue-and-white striped scarf. She hadn’t gotten on the ice yet, which Alyssa thought kind. Emma was waiting for her then, and she only hoped she hadn’t disappointed Emma in being late. 

“Alyssa! You’re here!” Emma grinned widely, She waved a skate-clad foot, the bright sun shining off the metal, a miniature line of fire. 

“I’m not too late, am I?” Alyssa made her way over to the bench quickly, the skates in her bag knocking against her back. She pushed off her shoes as she took out her skates, hissing slightly as the cold air hit her socks. Encasing her feet in her ice skates, she gave her ankles a few practice twists. Good, they were supported. 

“Never,” Emma said, her eyes flicking over Alyssa’s feet. “We’ve got the same laces, I think.”

“You’re right, we do!” They both had red laces shining against clean white skates. “Did you think we wouldn’t? These laces came with the skates, didn’t they?”

“Thought you’d have gold,” Emma quipped. “I’m surprised your mother didn’t deck you out entirely in gold, actually.”

“Emma Nolan,” Alyssa stood up, walking over to the ice, “Did you really think I’d have a different winter coat than what I wear to school?” Out of habit, she gave a quick look to her black gloved wrist to make sure that her gold wasn’t peeking out from under. That would be too distracting, and Alyssa liked covering it up before it could catch her eye.

“At least buttons or something. Your mom’s so proud of it, I mean.” Emma followed her, though her footsteps seemed a lot less sure, and Alyssa was sure she’d heard a muttered swear as Emma went out onto the ice.

“And if I’d lost a button?” Alyssa pushed off, gliding across the ice in easily strides. Her body knew what it was doing, relaxing into the familiar motions. She waited to hear Emma’s response, spinning just in time to see Emma take a few shaky steps. It was just baby steps, and Emma would definitely get more confident once she moved more, got her body warmed up. Alyssa was sure of it.

Except that was not the case as Emma’s unsteady gait continued. Technically, it wasn’t awful, and Emma was standing, and moving. Not very steadily, but her arms were outstretched for balance, and that was something. Alyssa was transfixed, almost, Emma’s blue sweater bright against the clear sky, up until Emma wobbled to her knees. 

“Emma!” She couldn’t explain the sudden stutter in her chest at Emma’s . . . _sit_ really, it wasn’t even a fall, and yet-- she was pushing herself over in long quick strokes. “Hey! Hey.” 

Emma offered up her arms, grinning abashedly. “Help me up?”

“You suggested this! I thought you would know how.” She grasped Emma’s forearm, trying to brace her weight and pull, which was harder on ice than Alyssa thought it would be. Emma scrambled to pull herself up, and the pair successfully stood until Emma’s skate caught the edge of Alyssa’s, and Alyssa went sprawling down.

Emma laughed, bright and golden, bending over to brace her palms on her knees. “I never said I was good!” 

“That you never did,” Alyssa conceded as she stood. She’d’ve been content to lay on the ice, listening to Emma laugh as they basked in the sun, but Emma might have only been in a sweater, and Alyssa’s red peacoat would have gotten cold. “But I’m pretty good at this.” She offered her gold-stringèd hand, and Emma took it. She shouldn’t have been able to feel the warmth through Emma’s glove, but it warmed her like the gold once had. 

“Step, and glide, and step, and--” Emma’s hand trembled in hers. “Okay, so we’ll change. I’ll hold both your hands. You’re be more secure that way.” That wasn’t the case, and Emma would be more unstable, but the placebo effect was something Alyssa had always found useful.

Emma hesitantly offered up her other blue-gloved hand, and Alyssa took hold. “You sure? I still feel wobbly.”

“I promise,” Alyssa said reassuringly. “You’ll watch what I do, and do what I do with your opposite foot. It’s like dancing. Do you remember when we had to learn square dancing in gym class?”

“Kaylee was out sick one day, and Shelby was visiting family. We partnered once.” Emma’s voice wasn’t as confident as Alyssa hoped, but they would work through it. Neither of them was falling now. 

_I don’t remember that_ , Alyssa said, except that was starting to be a falsehood. This did seem familiar, trying to help Emma keep her balance and moving the right feet. “You struggled so much then.” Something popped in her memory. “You kept wanting to lead!”

“No!” Emma seemed delighted to have made an impression. “You were so bossy! I kept mixing up my left and right.”

“Well, you’re doing great now! You’ve learned that by now.” Alyssa gave a warm smile. “You’ve _got_ this, Emma Nolan.”

“What I’ve _got_ are your hands holding me steady,” Emma said, and then froze, uncertain.

It was too similar to their conversation last night. It carried too much of the same connotations, and if Alyssa was a different person, if she was Shelby or Kaylee, she would drop Emma’s hands and skate away. But she wasn’t either of them, and she and Emma were similar, and they both understood what the other person was saying, was thinking, and they both agreed on soulmates, and--

And Emma’s eyes were shining hazel, honey and woodsy, large with . . .something. An answering something curled out of Alyssa’s stomach and she leaned forward to press her lips to Emma’s. 

Emma stayed utterly still for a moment, before a timid response, her mouth responding so lightly that Alyssa wouldn’t have known if hers hadn’t been pressed to Emma’s. It felt enough like the gold on Alyssa’s wrist, soft and warm and lucky, promising and eye-catching. Emma pulled away at last, though--

One of them over-extended. They were still holding hands, and their feet were near enough each other, and they’d been standing still long enough to forget that. It definitely wasn’t Alyssa’s control that slipped, toppling into Emma enough to knock her down and land her partially on top of her. This time, Alyssa stayed.

Emma let out a breathless laugh. “I can’t believe-- we just _did_ that! You just, you just--”

“I--” Alyssa didn’t know what to say. “I liked it.”

“I liked it too.” Emma’s voice was hesitant. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t want to. . .I don’t want to tell anyone.” Alyssa’s gold-stringèd wrist was heavy on the ice, burning a wire through her glove. 

“You want to . . .continue?” Emma pushed herself up. “You mean, you’re not going to pretend this didn’t happen?”

A thousand words fell through Alyssa’s head, a thousand emotions. “I assumed we were going to continue? I thought. . .” she was suddenly very happy that she couldn’t see Emma’s face. “I thought this was a date?”

“A date?” Emma seemed flabbergasted. “A date. I asked you on a date, and I. . .”

Oh. Oh no. “Is this not a date?”

“It’s a date!” Emma said quickly. “A date.” Alyssa pulled herself up in time to see a smile curl over Emma’s face. “Our first date. Wow.”

**Author's Note:**

> Based on https://munchiezxx.tumblr.com/post/189595592899/ice-skating-date-i-think-i-made-emma-a-little!
> 
> aya i'm so sorry i had plans to finish this and post it as a really long one-shot but then i got sick but i'll put out the other part as quickly as i can!


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